It dosent have to end here
by taintedtruffle
Summary: Sweeny awakens to find the end of the moveie was just a dream. But with Antony bringing Joanna over streight from the isnsane assylum, Turpin dropping by and Toby finding out the murdurous pair secret ingrediant its more trouble than ever on fleet street!
1. Chapter 1 : the dream

Chapter one

Chapter 1

"Mista T?" Nellie Lovett knocked urgently on the demon barber's door, "Mista T, there's a problem!" She received no answer and sighing restlessly, turned the cool brass knob letting her self into the upstairs room. In the light of the large window she saw the barbers chair where countless people had met there deaths sitting there in the center of the room.

It struck her as odd- how normal and what was the word benign this room seemed. Than again- she thought, so did her little shop. 'No mater' She thought pussing the grosum thoughts aside. "at least it picked business up. Evrey one 'as t' die some time why not 'elp 'em along?"

Where was Sweeny? Normally at this time of night he'd be staring out the dusty old window, plotting and brewing, thoughts heavy.

"Ah!" There!

Finally she saw him, sitting on his bed, sound asleep but being held up by the fact he had his back against the dark brown wall. Any other time she would have let him sleep. The man hadn't had a good nights sleep in many days. Each night she couldhear him pacing back and forth in front if the moon lit panes of the window, sometimes mumbling to him self. Each morning the dark bags under his eyes seemed darker and the weariness she could sense in him seemed to grow.

Lovett didn't say anything though. Whenever she mentions her concerns for him he either brushes her off, changes the subject or ignores her completely.

As I said, any other time she would have let him sleep; satisfied to know he was getting some much needed rest. But tonight she couldn't. Down stair, locked in the bake house was a troublesome little boy, a nosey little boy, an endearing little boy who thought of her as his own mum. A little boy Nellie was now up her to get Sweeney to kill.

"Mista Todd." She reached out a small pale hand to touch his shoulder.

He sprung up immediately; a growling cry that somewhat resembled the word "No" springing from his lips.

Nellie, already kneeling next to the bed fell back, hitting her head hard against the wooden floor as he sprung upon her, strong hands grabbing at her slender throat.

"Lucy!" He roared. "You lied about Lucy!" Mrs. Lovett had never heard him so angry before, not when he heard of his wife's death, not even after the judge had got away and he had blamed her, going so far as to hold his sharp, silver blade to her throat, daring her to give him a reason not to kill her.

Even then she hadn't felt the raw fear she felt now. Then she had felt a small amount of joy at his closeness, at the fact he was looking at her, finally acknowledging her. Then she had even thought she'd saw certain playfulness in his eyes, the spark of mischief normally found in the eyes of a much younger boy.

Tonight there was none of that. His pupils seemed black and what she saw in his eyes was nothing short of pure hatred. She hadn't even seen him look at the judge, the man who took his daughter and drove his wife to suicide with these eyes. He was still yelling at her, hurling questions at her.

She tried to focus on what he was saying. "I killed her!" He yelled, shaking her with each syllable and causing her already aching head to hit the floorboards roughly with every movement "I killed her and it all your fault! You liar! Why are you still here? I threw you in the fire, I guess I shouldn't have expected flames to end the villainess from hell! Here you are still at my bed side to torment me more!"

In all honesty she had no idea what he was talking about and even if she did she wouldn't have been able to answer him any ways. Her small hands scrabbled uselessly at his wrist, trying futilely to pull his muscular hands from her.

He was strong, a fact that surprised her although in after thought she realized it shouldn't. How else could he over power man after man?

The barber was straddling her and struggling, nellie tried her best to toss him, kicking and squirming as hard as she could but that proved to be about as useless as her attempt to pull his hands away from her windpipe.

Tears rose to hear eyes and black dots began to swim through her vision. He was still yelling, something about Lucy and the beggar woman and Toby killing him. She couldn't focus to understand it even if he was making sense and instead tried her best to plead with her eyes for her beloved Mr. Todd not to bring her to death.

"Mr. Todd!" Anthony threw open the door happily, a wide smile splayed across his young face. An equally young face, this one with blond hair flying out behind her as they rushed up the stairs was in toe, being pulled along hand in hand.

Anthony paused, frozen in the doorway at the sight he saw.

Sweeney came to his senses at the arrival of the new comer standing motionless in the door jam. He pulled his hands away form the still woman below his body.

Anthony stood still, trying to stutter out a response and coming up with nothing more than meaningless sounds. Sweeney, finally in his right mind, or as close to a right mind he'd been in a while slowly found his way to his feet.

At the absence of his weight Mrs. Lovett coughed, desperately trying to bring air into her starving lungs.

He glared, walking purposely to the two standing at the entrance to the room oh-so-many had entered and oh-so-few had exited.

"Sit" He hissed, gesturing towards the tatty bed. They both obeyed with out a word.

Suspicion was obvious, Anthony trying his best to keep him self between his beloved Joanna and the madman in front of them. Its wasn't until he'd shut the door and was walking towards them the young boy realized they might have had be better chance if they'd made a run for it.

Oh please comment! I really want feed back!


	2. Chapter 2 : reunion

Chapter 2

Chapter two

They all set there for over three minutes starring at one another. Sweeney stood in the center of the room, alternating glances from the two seated on his bed to the gasping woman on the floor. When someone finally spoke it was Mrs. Lovett. "Well… Mr. T." She said, reaching out her hand. He glared at her but reached out his hand to help her up "Good thing-" She coughed, massaging her throat. "Good thing you know what to when someone's choking."

"Right." He nodded curtly than turned to the others. "Peach pit. She was um.. choking." He filled in awkwardly. She nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Now wot is it th' two you doin' 'ere gaping like a couple a fish." She asked regaining both her wind and her confidence.

Sweeney relaxed. This was the first time ever he remembered being grateful for the damnable woman running her mouth.

Their story didn't seem to do much in the way of quelling the fears in both the childrens eyes. "I seem to have frightened you." He said, bowing his head low. "And for that I apologize." He looked at them, trying to decide something in his head.

Mrs Lovett looked at him "Wot are you thinking of Mr. T?" She whispered quietly enough the 2 didn't hear her. Heavy in thought he ignored her. For the second time in only a short span of time all three pairs of eyes where on him as he stood there, staring down at the floor.

Slowly he backed away from the group, going over to the pale time washed dresser near the doorway. He reached into one of the draws. Out came his barber soap, his brush, and a few shirts. He set them unceremoniously atop the dresser. Next he pulled out his box of razors. He set them down as well, a lingering caress sliding across the polished case. Finally he pulled out a gold plated folding frame. Mrs. Lovett's started to say something to him but before she could make a sound his eyes where on her, glaring. Instead her hands flew up to stop herself from speaking.

"Johanna." He said. "Look at these pictures." His voice was soft and calm, tinged with a small trace of hope. She reached out a shaking hand to take them from the dark barber.

"Why?" She asked after only a glance. "Mr. Todd? Why do you have a picture of my mother?" She looked even more alarmed and puzzled at the same time as she slipped even further behind Anthony.

"What- tell me what- what have you heard of your father?" He managed to stammer out. He had never felt this nervous, this awkward. No at his wedding ever-so-long ago. Not when he was lost at sea after his escape from Australia. Not even as he was walking through the once familiar streets running through his head all the possibilities of what he'd find upon return to his old home.

Everything was hanging on a small thread. It all depended on how he carried this out. One mistake and his daughter would be lost to him forever at no ones fault but his own.

"My father was a murderer." She whispered softly. "He killed my mother and than him self with his own razor blades. Why?" She asked this question with more strength in her voice.

"That's not true dearie." Mrs. Lovett spoke up when she saw Sweeney had simply hung his head, what ever he had hoped his daughter to say obviously not spoken. "Your father loved both you and your mother very much." She spoke slowly with side-glances at her beloved. She was unsure of where he wanted this conversation to go and didn't want to stray into dangerous water. "Judge Turpin, the man you called your guardian framed 'im for murder and 'ad 'im sent away t' a prison for life."

Sweeney's head was raised looking directly at her. She paused. He didn't pick up the story so she continued.

"After your father was gone Turpin tried to woo your mother. 'Er heart was broken. She loved your father more than anything and he her. Neither of them could ever love another, dedicated the two dears where." She felt tears in her eyes as she said this, not only at the tragedy she was speaking of but because saying this out loud reminded her solidly of why Mr. Todd would never be hers. "Turpin lured her to his house and took advantage of her. She came home, I was sittin' you at the time, down stairs in me shop.

She walked in that door hair mussed, dress torn and tears smeared across her cheeks, wouldn't tell me what 'appened jus' asked me t' watch you tell morning. I agreed o'corse. I never suspected something so horrible 'ad 'appened. I din't find that out till I 'eard I' from one of the men who'd been at Turpin's that night."

She looked at her audience. Even Sweeney was listening intently. She realized she'd never told him all this. "Well me Albert, bless 'is soul, popped the laughin' fool right in the nose. I'm getting of track though. Back t' your mother. She went up t' 'er room and sat there, staring out th' window. Th' poor thing'd gone mad with grief an shame, wouldn't move from that spot, wouldn't even take you back love.

Poor Lu wouldn't eat, barley slept and wouldn't talk to no one. A'fer 'bout a week she went out one day wit' out sayin nuthin' t' me or Albert. I thought she was getting' better. When she showed back up a 'alf hour later she even smiled at me. I asked 'er 'ow she felt. She din't answer the question." Lovett paused, again casting a look at Sweeney. The man was unstable and she wasn't sure she should say what came next out of fear it'd cause him to do somethin' awful.

Biting her lip she continued. "So Lucy just stood there, lookin' at me wit' sad eyes. 'Ben's dead' She whispered t' me softly 'ben's dead an im going to see 'im' She ran up the steps an' locked 'er self in 'er room. I was worried 'bout 'her so I went down t' me shop an got Albert. 'E busted down the door but we was too late. Poor Lu was face down on the floor, dead as dust wit' a black bottle still clutched in 'er pretty lil 'and."

Lovett dabbed at the corner of her eyes. "Mr. Todd." She said softly. "Want to finish up the story?" He didn't respond. "Mr. T!" She tried again, voice shrill with nervousness.

"Y-your father missed you both." He said finally. He was looking at the floor, not willing to meet anyone's eyes. His voice was slow and quiet. "He b-broke out a' prison an did 'is best t' get back t' you." He was silent again, "I-I went with him. We stole a boat and set out t' sea. There was a terrible storm an' it was such a small lil boat. The storm smashed it t' pieces. I clung to a piece of driftwood for what seemed like forever until Anthony picked me up. Ben drowned in the storm" He hung his head. "When we first set sail he made me promise if any thing happened t' him I would find you an' Lucy an' take care of th' two of you." He finished talking and finally looked up at them. "I'll try t' do my best."

Johanna gave him a small smile. Anthony just looked confused. As usuall it was Nellie who broke the silence. "Okay, lets get th' two a you fed and get a clean dress for you t' wear love." She ushered the two out the door. She didn't leave thou, she had to speak to Mr. T. She didn't say anything though, just stood there silently seeing as Sweeney was lost in his thoughts once again.

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PLEASE COMMENT! I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.!


	3. Chapter 3 : toby

Chapter three

"Are you ok Mista Todd?" She asked, slowly stepping towards him.

He turned to look at her, seaming to realize for the first time she was still in his room. "Yes. No."

"Your jus' confused love." She took his hand and guided him to his bed. He sat down with a gentle push upon the shoulders from her. He didn't do or say anything, just stared blankly ahead.

"She's a fine girl." She said softly, sitting down next to him. He nodded dully. "Why didn't you tell 'er?" She asked quietly, fully well knowing the question would probably get her thrown from the room. She watched his face for the signs of anger that where sure to come.

"I don't know." He mumbled, fingers lightly tracing the edge of the 'friend' he had flicked open as he spoke. She frowned, patting his shoulders with a gloved hand.

"S'okay love." She looked at him, seeing all the pain and confusion swirling through his mind. She wanted to offer him some words of comfort but for once couldn't seem to find any.

Finally she said softly "Why don't I go on down stairs and see to them and you can pop down when you're ready, ok?" She patted his shoulder again and stood to leave. "Mista Todd?" She said, only a step away from the door. "Can I ask you a question?" She knew now was neither the time nor the place but she couldn't help it. She had never had enough sense to keep her mouth shut even when she knew she should.

He didn't answer, just continued idly running his fingers along the razors silver length. "Why did you-" She paused, rephrasing her question. "What 'ad you so agitated when I walked in earlier?" Even as she asked this she hung back close to the door incase this brought on another out burst.

"Tomorrow you are to show me Lucy's grave." He stated bluntly, still not looking up at her. His voice was sharp and cool as the dream swirled to his consciousness yet again. "If you say you can't or wont I'll kill you." He still didn't look up, and she shivered involuntarily.

"Of course Mista T, why don' we wait till Sunday though." She hated her self for how small her voice sounded. She had never been truly frightened of her Mr. Todd, why was she now? "I don' want t' 'ave t' close up the shop for a whole day an' th' lil dear was buried out in the country, no space 'ere t' burry 'er."

He looked up, two smoldering coals of eyes meeting her hazel colored ones. "We go tomorrow." He stated, making sure she understood there was no room for negotiation.

She dithered some response, not even sure what she said as she made her way from the room. Only once she was on the opposite side of door did she once again remember her purpose. She didn't want to step back in the room, not when the barber was so out of sorts but she had to.

She took a deep breath and stood there, trying to both gather her thoughts and allow the barber at least a few moments to cool down.

"Mr. T." She said. He looked up to see her poking her pale face back through the door jam. "My…Toby, he's in the bake house." Was all she could manage to get out. She loved the boy; she hadn't really realized that fact until now as she was looking at Sweeney, the last person her boy would ever see. "He-" Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard. "He knows."

Sweeney nodded and she was horrified by the fact she saw a small smile edging along the corners of his lips. "Go get 'im ready," He stood, allowing that demonic grin to fully spread out across his pale lips. "I'll be down soon Lovett."

She nodded mutely, unable to speak. She made her was shakily down the old wooden steps, past the two teens cuddling on at one of the tables in her shop and through the living room arriving at the big metal door. She turned the lock, letting her self in. Toby. Tears stung at her eyes as she carefully stepped down the bake house steps. She would miss him dearly. "T-to." She had meant to call out to him but instead barely managed a syllable before a sob escaped instead. She sat down in the center or the room, hiding her face against her knees as she cried.

She didn't know what to do. She loved Mr. Todd and until a few minutes ago there was no question in her mind of the fact she would do anything for him but her Toby, the closest thing to a son she would ever get, how could she get rid of him? 'he knows' she reasoned with herself. 'there's nothing we can do about it, no other option' She had near convinced her self of that when she felt a small hand on her shoulder and looked up into the innocent boys frightened face.

"Mum?" He said, voice barley a whisper. "Mista Todd locked you down 'ere too did 'e?" He asked, kneeling in front of her and pulling her into awkward hug, made so for the fact she was still leaning forward against her legs. She lowered them and the boy crawled into her lap, hugging her properly. "Its ok mum." He whispered. "I'll keep you safe." She nodded, kissing the boy upon his forehead.

She was crying in earnest now and she knew from the fact the boy didn't pull away he hadn't heard the creak as the bake house door opened yet again. She held him closer, one hand stroking his hair as the other lay firm on his back. "Nothings gonna harm you." She softly sung to him, repeating word he had sung to her less than an hour ago. "Not while I'm around." She was singing loud enough to cover up the sound of footsteps walking towards them. "Nothings gonna harm you darling." Sweeney knelt down in front of her, the boys back to him. His eyes, teeth and blade all gleamed only inches behind her adoptive sons head in the light of the roaring oven.

"I love you mum." He whispered and she repeated the sentiment, acting as though she was pulling him away to get a better look at him while in actuality she was allowing easer access to his throat. She bit her lip nervously as Sweeny's knife crept forward, un-noticed by the boy attempting to comfort the only mother he'd ever known.

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please comment!


	4. Chapter 4 : the bake house

chapter 4

"No!" She gasped out, pulling Toby close to her and away from the demon barber's advancing blade. She stood up, scooping him into her thin arms. Sweeney glared at her.

"Give me the boy." He growled. She shook her head fervently, maroon curls bouncing around her face.

"Toby, tell Mista Todd you wont tell anyone what you know." She urged as her startled adoptive son found his feet. "'E don't 'ave t' die, 'e don't!"

"I wont tell a soul Mr. T." He was crying too and stood infront of Nellie, arms spread wide in a childish attempt to block the man. "Please don't hurt mum, I wont tell anyone!"

"It's not her I'm after." He growled, lunging forward. Mrs. Lovett ran forward as well, tackling the barber to the ground. It was hard to tell who was more surprised by her actions, Lovett or Sweeney. She cried out as she fell upon him, face tightening in an expression of pain. Sweeney frowned at that, felling the need to ask what was wrong but ignoring it. He hadn't done anything to her "Don't kill 'im Mista T," She gasped out in a strangled voice. "'e wont tell I know 'e won't!"

He pushed her off him and scrambled for the boy who had been edging closer, catching his foot. Sweeney swung his arm forward to deliver the killing blow. Only than did he realize his friend wasn't in his hand. Where was it? It had been in his hand when the damnable woman tackled him, he must have dropped it or- he turned to look at the floor and spotted it not on the ground but in Lovett's hand. She was on her feet but leaning against the bake house wall for support. One hand feebly holding his blood coated razor out in front of her, the other clutching tightly at her left side, which was quickly being covered by a crimson stain.

Oh, gods! He must have stabbed her when they flew at each other. "Mrs. Lovett, Give me my razor so I can finish off the lad and get you some assistance." His voice had taken on a softer tone. Upon standing he let go of the boys foot, the young lad foolishly running to his "mother".

She shook her head no, whimpering with pain as she took a step away from him. "Toby's a good boy." She said in a strained voice. "'E can keep a secret."

Sweeney took another step towards her. "He can't Mrs. Lovett. We can not trust 'im. I should 'ave killed him the day I polished off that damn Italian."

Sweeney walked towards them with more confidence now. The woman had stopped moving away and was instead leaning against the wall, desperately trying not to fall to the ground.

Toby, seeing his mums weakened state, grabbed the razor from her shaking hand and was brandishing it in front of him as he tried to back himself and Mrs. Lovett to the door. Her blood was flowing quickly and half her skirt was already a brilliant shade of red. Sweeney had to act fast.

He grabbed a butcher's knife from the large chopping block in the center of the room. It felt clumsy and awkward in his hand compared to what he was used to but it would have to do "Toby." He said in a low, growling voice. "Your mum only has so much blood, you really think this is wise?"

"You don't care!" The boy spat out. "You don't give a rats arse 'bout mum!"

Sweeney stared at him, surprised at the rage that filled him at that comment. That wasn't true. He wanted to scream this at the boy but stopped him self with more than a little confusion as he realized he did at lest care enough not to want her dead. That fact in its self shocked him. He wanted every one dead, why he shouldn't feel the same way about the bothersome baker he didn't know. One thing her did know though is he had to do something and soon.

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There was a knock at the door to the pie shop, curious Antony stood, looking out and seeing, much to his horror, Beatle Bamford.

"Hide." He hissed to his blond haired companion and she instantly obeyed, slipping under the heavy wood table at which shed been sitting only moment ago.

"Hello sir." Antony greeted awkwardly, opening the door partially.

"Sailor, didn't think I'd see the likes of you again." He said with a wicked grin. Antony frowned. Upon their last meeting this man had beaten him and threatened to kill him. "What are you doing here? Lovett have a pretty little lady for you to woo or are you after the pie maker her self?"

Antony ignored the mans insults. "Why are you here?" He asked angrily.

"Well there's been complaints filed against Mrs. Lovett. I'm told a smell most foul rises from her chimney at this time of night." The man tried to push the door open wide enough to enter but Antony held his ground. "I'm here to 'ave a look at her bake house."

"Well if that was the case wouldn't you smell it now?" Antony challenged. He couldn't let the man get in and risk his Joanna being seen.

"Never the less I ought t' take a look." He attempted again to push past the young man.

"I can't let you in sir. The missus is paying me to mind the shop and I'm not to let any one in under any circumstances." The lie surprised him at the ease it sprung from his lips.

"I have to do my duties." The greasy man said more sternly.

"Well your duties don't include breaking and entering do they? 'Cause that's what it'll be if you don't have a search permit."

"Where is she at this time of night?" The beadle challenged.

"She .." He paused for a moment "She stepped out with a gentleman caller."

The beadle glared at him and Antony decided to try a different approach.

"Oh don't tell me some one a upstanding as you has nothing better to do at night than make house calls." Antony said. "I mean, there has to be some party you where invited to or something of the sort you could do. Than you could simple return when Mrs. Lovett is home."

"As mater of fact I do." Beatle said, puffing out his chest. "Much better."

"Well why don't you go see to that Mr. Bamford." He said, hoping he would leave. "I'm sure there's some one as well-liked as you has some lovely lady friend or two of whom he could attended to."

"Mweel. That is true."

Antony could see the Beddle wavering and threw in. "Tell you wot, I'll even tell 'er you stoped by and she can 'ave a nice double sized pie made up for you, you know , so you can sample the wares of the place."

"That sounds acceptable, the night is getting rather on in time, why don't you tell Mrs. Lovett I'll be back at dawns breaking to see to her bake house." He said with a sense of finality

"Of course, I'll deliver the message as soon as she returns from her outing." Seeming satisfied with this the rat like, conceded man turned away and walked out into the night.

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Mrs. Lovett's eyes fluttered sleepily. Her head was spinning and the room seemed to be losing its color. Her foot caught the hem of her floor length dress and she toppled over, hitting the hard stone with a weak cry.

That was exactly the opening Sweeny need. With no chance of hitting the baker he threw the knife he had held at the boy. It spun in the air and the handle hit first, bouncing harmlessly off his chest. It did however provide a well-appreciated distraction, as Sweeney was able to tackle the boy and snatch his razor from his hand.

He had pined him in front of Nellie as she sat up and she cried, knowing there was nothing that could be done to stop him. Sweeney looked at her, hesitating only the slightest bit. She would hate him for this, he knew that. It had to be done though. "You where a good boy Toby." He said softly, patting the boy on top of his head. He dragged his sharp blade across the child's neck, than sat back on his haunches, feeling suddenly depressed as he watched the life pour from the young assistant.

Mrs Lovett moaned, futilely pulling the boy closer to her now that Sweeney had let go of him. She kissed his forehead one final time and he reached up, hand shaking and touched his mum's cheek. She grabbed the small hand in her own; the room was spinning again and the lights seemed to be dimming. She leaned forward slowly, eyes closing as she lay her head atop the small body in her arms.

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Authors note. TT poor Toby. I am not a Toby hater, just to let you know, I adore the little boy but it had to be done. Oh and for the sake of my story Antonys not a complete idiot here


	5. Chapter 5 : doctor

.Chapter 5

The demon barber quickly stepped over to the unconcise baker. Two pale fingers met with the slender neck feeling for a pulse. He relaxed slightly when he found it. He edged the boy of her lap, and pulled off his blue tie, pressing it against the wound in an attempt to stop the blood. He was about to pick her up when he recalled something. Joanna and the sailor where upstairs in the kitchen.

Sweeney cursed aloud, slamming his fist into the stone ground. What was he going to do? He was covered in blood so he couldn't march up the steps, much less carrying a crimson soaked Mrs. Lovett, could he? His daughter and her little amore would ask too many questions that he wouldn't have an answer to. He growled loudly. What the hell was he going to do?

If he went up stairs he would have to make up a plausible story and have them believe it. He wasn't stupid and he knew they where still at least slightly suspicious from earlier. On the other hand he couldn't just head upstairs painted red and hope they wouldn't notice. Besides if he was to leave her she would probably die, than who would he have to hide the bodies? As her sat there, trying to staunch the blood Sweeney heard a rush of feet and before he could do anything to stop him Antony poked his head in the bake house.

"Mrs. Lovett? Mr. Todd?" He gasped in shock. "Mrs. Lovett!! What happened to her?!"

"I don't know boy." He growled. The lad took a step forward. "Stop!" Sweeney yelled louder than necessary. Antony obeyed instantly. At the current angle Toby's body was blocked from view behind Sweeney and Lovett but a few steps forward and it would be plain as day. "I think she must of slipped when cutting meat for the pies." The lie slipped easily from his tong. "I'm gonnna carry Mrs. Lovett upstairs, you are to run to the physician. I'll need you to be quick about it, got it?" The sailor nodded. "Than go!" Antony took off running up the steps, hurrying to follow his orders.

Sweeney heard the door close and relaxed slightly. It was gonna be ok, every thing would be fine. All he has to do is wait for them to get to his room, than he'd carry Mrs. Lovett upstairs to her room, Antony'd hurry from the house, find a doctor, they'd tell him she had an accident, than have her fixed up.

He carefully picked up his business partner, setting her upon the floral print couch

Just in time to catch sight of Antony slipping out into the cool London night. Sweeney sat there, drenched in blood and feeling quite useless for once. He didn't see Joanna and figured Antony had sent her up to his room until he heard a voice behind him. "Mista Todd?" Joannas soft voice said.

He turned his head and she was standing there with a handful of linen. "Here. That old tie looks soaked through."

He nodded, thanking her with a smile. She moved closed. "I can do that so you can go change." She offered, giving him a small smile of her own. "You must feel positively disgusted to be covered in all that blood.

"Yes." He said, amused inward by the thought that he had been covered by much more than this and not been disturbed. "Here, give me your hands." He showed her how he was holding the tie and helped her place the linen over it. She smiled at him shyly. He excused himself from the room and hurried up the steps to change, warring with himself in his mind over whether he should have told her the truth or not about her parentage.

He quickly closed the curtain on his door, flipping the sign to closed and stripped of his soiled clothes, tossing them in a basket at the foot of his bed. He grabbed a bucket of clean water that was always present under his bed, wiping self clean with help from the cracked mirror in the corner and quickly pulled on a fresh set of clothes. He hurried down the steps to his shop, tossing the water in the gutter and quickly pumping fresh into the bucket and running back up stairs to stow it again under his bed.

By the time he got back down stairs Antony was back along with a wispy gray haired man who introduced him self as "Doctah. Lipton." When Sweeney walked in the man had just pulled out a small pair of scissors from his large black bag and was cutting away a circle of the fabric around the wound.

"She'll be alright wont she?" Sweeney asked, words springing from his mouth with out thought. The doctor nodded, now pulling a bottle of alcohol from the bag, pouring it on to the wound.

"She'll be fine." The doctor said and he now pulled out a curved needle and a spool of black thread. "She'll have to rest up and give it time to heal." He looked Sweeney hard in the eye. "You the Mister? You'll 'ave to make shure she's not doin anything wots too strenuous, mind you sir. Nothin that makes 'er 'ave to bend 'er stomach muscles for a while. This cut goes straight down to 'em."

"But she will be alright." Sweeney repeated.

"Yes. Yes." He was sewing now, knarled old hands moving with a deftness Sweeney had not expected. He raised his eyebrows as in less than a minute the four and a half inch gash was neatly closed and he was snipping off the end of the thread.

"Now." He said. "Lets get this woman to 'er room and out of those sullied clothes." Sweeney bent down, carefully picking her up and carrying her to her room. The doctor held open the door. "Young miss?" He called to Joanna, "Would you come help us please?"

She nodded, stepping quickly into the room. "And you sir." Dr. Lipton called out at Antony. "Please fetch us a basin and some water."

And Sweeney held her aloft in the air the grey haired man took out his scissor and snipping along the back of her dress. "It'll be less stressful on her than trying to tug of her dress and the garments ruined regardless." He explained.

Sweeney didn't answer just continued to stand there. The doctor opened the door partially to take the basin from the boy and than closed it again, quickly untying her corset ,an slipping it off. Sweeney didn't look down, instead he stared at the far corner of the room, eyes fixing on a portrait upon the wall. The doctor than tugged the hoop skirt off. "We'll can leave the pantaloons on." He commented and Sweeney gave a small sigh of relief. Lipton quickly wiped her clean with a cool, quick clinicalness and Joanna slipped a nightgown over her head. "You can set 'er down now, sir." He said and Sweeney quickly obeyed.

They exited the room and he gathered his stuff back in the bag, finally turning, smiling at Sweeney as he told him his fee and said he'd be back in a week's time to check on Mrs. Lovett. Sweeney nodded; excusing him self to go up to his room and get the money. He didn't have it on him. He and Lovett kept all the money they made in the hollow under the floorboard in his room.

He quickly made his way up his steps yet again and swung his door open, jaw dropping as he saw who was standing in his room. He quickly caught himself, eyes narrowing at the guest.

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Please review!


	6. Chapter 6 : Turpin

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"You!" The word sprung from Sweeney's lips.

Turpin smiled at him. "Ah. Barber. There you are." He stepped forward, right hand in his pocket, resting on the object he placed in there only moments before Sweeney entered the room. "Where is she?"

Sweeney was puzzled for a moment before he realized he meant Joanna. "Down bellow, sir, with my neighbor." He answered truthfully.

Turpin moved towards the seat. "Mr. Todd, do you think me a stupid man?"

"You sir, stupid, no, of course not!" The man allowed the barber to slip off his tie but still remained standing.

"Joanna really is a beautiful girl, is she not?"

A glare of pure hate managed to break through Sweeney casual face for a split second before replying. "I suppose so sir. Now why don't you have a seat my lord."

The man obeyed and Sweeney began applying a thick lather to the mans face. "Wait-" Turpin raised his hand to stop Sweeney, inadvertently knocking the brush from his hands. "Oh, do beg my pardon sir!" He apologized, Sweeney shook his head.

"It's fine sir." He turned to pick it up and that's when the judge made his move. He tackles the smaller man to the ground, smacking the bowl from his hand. Sweeney's razor was atop the dresser behind the chair. Turpin pinned his hands above his head.

Sweeney was surprised, this man was stronger than he had expected.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice Barker?" He growled. "Did you think I'd be so naive? Or…" He smirked down at the glaring man, "Did you leave that picture on your bed hoping I would see it?"

Sweeney's eyes instantly darted over, catching sight of the glint of gold on his tattered sheets. He didn't say anything. Sweeney had no weapon. He had to play this right.

"And why would I have wanted you to see that?" He hissed finally.

Turpin smiled a wicked smile that made the barbers stomach turn. "That's what I want you to tell me." His voice was silky. "Maybe you wanted me to know, maybe you wanted me to tell you its alright, maybe you wanted me to pardon you, wanted me to tell you could live here in lundun yet again?"

"Oh yes Turpin, of course," He had abandoned any false niceness, voice now dripping thick with an even mix of sarcasm and hate. "There's nothing I could desire more than to know I had the approval of the man who **raped my wife."**

"Oh. So that's what this is all about. Not the life's sentence on Devils Island?"

Sweeney couldn't believe how casually he said this, and filled with anger began squirming against him until he was stilled by the judges free hand swinging across his face as hard as he was able.

"What did you intend to do Barker?" He cooed, face so close to Todd's that the shaving cream was rubbing off onto the paler mans chin. His hand slipped in his pocket. "Did you intend to kill me sir?" Turpin whispered. "Lieing to me? Pretending my daughter is here to lure me in to your room. Naughty, naughty."

Silver caught the light in his hand.

Sweeney's eyes grew wide as he saw what the corrupt man pulled from his pocket. It was one of his friends! That was it!

Filed with a new rage he did the only thing he could think of. He yanked one hand free than punched as hard as he could at the one weak spot he knew every man had. Turpin's grasp instantly loosened, a look of agony upon his face.

Sweeney pulled out from under the man, springing to his feet and grabbing his razor off the dresser. Turpin rose to his feet as well but neither of them move to leave the room, instead they circled the perimeter, each glaring at the other.

"You can't win this Barker!"

"Oh contraire. Before the night is over you will lie dead at my feet!"

"Feh. Such confidence. I don't think I'll kill you. No." He grinned. "I'll leave that to the executioner."

Sweeney charged forward, Turpin effortlessly sidestepping the younger man.

"I've been fencing since I was four." He smirked. "No, I think I'll just incapacitate you so you can watch me ruin something else you love."

Sweeney paused, trying to figure what the lawman meant by this and the man took this chance to mount his own attack. Sweeny didn't have time to move to the side, instead he ducked down, throwing his arm out and smirking with satisfaction when his razor sunk into the flesh if the mans chest.

It wasn't until the judge jerked back Sweeney realized the mans blade had cut into his shoulder.

"To shallow Barker." Turpin mocked. "Just like your revenge plans. I wonder, how long have you been planning this? Have you sat up late at night, thinking of how this would turn out? Oh, what's wrong?" He charged Sweeney yet again, this time the Barber hoped back so he was standing on to his own bed. "Things not going according to plan?" He hopped up as well.

"I have confidence everything'll work out!" Todd countered, kicking out. The older man stepped back in time to avoid it, awkwardly finding the ground. Sweeny swung forward his other foot as soon as the first one met the ground, effectively catching Turpin's face.

He jumped forward, swinging at the man.

"I give up, please." Turpin whispered, falling to his knees. Sweeney stopped mid swing to laugh.

"Its too late for that old man!" He grabbed the mans hair in a tight fist, bringing his razor to his neck. He would do this slow, savor it.

"Gah-" A strangled sound escaped the barbers lips as a sharp pain took over his body; he looked down to see the judges blade buried to the hilt in his stomach. "So gullible." Turpin smirked, jumping to his feet, bringing the blade up and tearing flesh as he went.

Sweeney glared at the man, hand pressed over the wound.

"Don't worry Barker, I said I'd not kill you now. Why don't you wait here while I get that red headed bon bon and show you what I _will_ do."

"Go to hell!" Sweeny growled.

"She a screamer?"

Sweeny growled, tossing the razor he held at the man, it hit him in the face, shallowly stabbing into the cheek.

"Smart move." Judge Turpin chided. "Now you have no weapon. Oh I envy your intelligence." Sweeny collapsed into a sitting position on his bed, hands clutching at the blanket.

As the vile judge laughed Todd tossed the woolen object over him, tackling him in his surprise and hitting his head roughly into the wall behind him. He slammed the Judges head into the aged wood of his floor repeatedly before hitting the now dazed, half concise man into the dresser.

Sweeney grinned as his box of razors fell and he greedily snatched one up, finishing the job in one swift motion. Exhausted he rolled the body across his floor, pressing the trigger with his hand and shoving the body into the chute.

It was done. Turpin was dead.

All the energy seemed to have to left him at this realization. There was only one thing left to do. The others where waiting.

He reached into the floorboard, snatching up the money he had been sent to retrieve and clomping down the steps. No one would notice anything; his shirt had already been soaked in blood.

He stuffed the money into the waiting doctors hand, insisting no one was to enter his room, no mater what and than staggered up the steps, locking his door behind him and not even waiting to reach the bed before collapsing unconchise.


	7. Chapter 7: The beedle

It was dark, pitch black and cold. Sweeney frowned. Hell wasn't supposed to be cold. He was freezing. Slowly feelings came to him. The first thing he noticed was water, fridgged drops of water where falling onto him. Next thing he noticed was he was lying on something hard and wet. His fingers moved, rubbing at the splintered wood.

Wait- this wasn't hell, it was- a flash of lightening filled the room with white light and he saw he was in his room. He wasn't dead and he certainly wasn't in hell. No. He had just been passed out on his own floor under a window he left open and it'd started to storm. Shaking he forced himself to sit up, gasping at the pain in his stomach where Turpin had stabbed him. How long had he been out? It had been night when he fought the Judge and it was still night now so too much time couldn't have passed.

Sweeney eased him self to his feet, falling back on to his bed seconds later. He reached an aching arm for the candle kept on top of the dresser and fumbled around until he found matches and lit it. The room was bathed in an orange glow as he got three candles going and looked around.

He was shocked at the size of the stain on his floor. No way all that blood could have come from him. No. It was just being spread by the rain, that was all. He slid off his bed, back on to the floor and quickly tugged off the blood soaked clothes. The parts the rain hadn't touched where dried and stiff.

Sweeney pulled the ever handy bucket of water out from under his bed and bathed him self slowly, being sure to get ever bit of the blood, dried or not off him. He sneezed as he made his way over to his dresser and pulled on clean clothes. God. He hadn't felt this bad since he was starving at sea.

That thought brought two other realizations to him. He needed to use the bathroom and he needed some food. Telling him self he'd clean the mess later he blew out all but one of the candles, locked his door and stepped out into the pouring rain, trying to shield his candle from both wind and water. He didn't bother with shoes, they would only get wet.

When he was finished in the outhouse he slowly made his way to the door of the pie shop. It was locked. He sagged against the doorjamb, knocking weakly at the door.

"Mister Todd!" Joannah opened the door, pulling him in. "Where have you been?"

"What?"

"You've been gone for half a week! How could you?" Her voice was rising and tears where coming to her eyes. "What where you off doing? We needed you!"

He blinked, shaking legs almost giving way. That caught her attention. "Your sick?"

He nodded and she helped him up and to the couch.

"What happened? Is Mrs. Lovett all right?" He couldn't help but be alarmed by what she said. What did she mean 'needed'?

"She's fine. She's sleeping but she's fine."

"Has she-she has woken up though, right?"

"Yes sir." Joannah nodded. He frowned at her. Than what was so wrong? Why was she about to cry?

"Than what happened?" He asked sternly when she didn't say any thing.

She didn't look at him, she stared at her hands as she asked: "You know where I was right? You know where Antony brought me from?"

"A nut house." He answered dully. Was there a point to this?

Joannah buried her face in her hands, mumbling something unintelligible. Sweeney frowned, felling an odd sense of empathy for his little girl. Gently he put an arm around the blond pulling her close. What was wrong?

"Come now. Pull those hands away from your face and tell me what's wrong."

"I couldn't go back there! I couldn't! You wouldn't believe th' awful people there or-"

"No ones going to take you back there. Calm down."

"He wanted to." She whispered, looking at him with red-rimed eyes.

"Who-?"

"He said he'd take me back to Fog's." She whispered. "He said either that or I would have to marry him!"

"Antony?" He was instantly furious. That sailor was going to pay for frightening his little girl.

"When-when he broke me out Antony had a gun but I was the one holding it. So-so when he showed up and said that stuff I couldn't, Mister T!" She looked up at him and he felt again the need to comfort her. He ran a hand down her pale hair. "He was saying horrible stuff and I just couldn't go back but I couldn't marry him and let him do all the stuff he said so…"

"So … what?"

"I shot him." She hid her face again, this time against his chest. "OH! You must think I'm an awful person, truly you must but I didn't know what to do. There was blood everywhere, I shot him twice but he didn't die and it was out of bullets so, so, I took one of the knives from the counter and-" She drew a finger across her neck.

He patted her back, staring blankly ahead. His daughter had killed the boy? He couldn't help but wonder, was it his fault some how? Was there something elementally wrong with him, something inside his mind that had always been there even before devils island that he had passed on to his Joannah?

For some reason that thought disturbed him a little. He shook his head to clear it. "What did you do with the body?" He asked when he finally thought to speak.

"We umm… I didn't know what to do with it so we opened the door t' th' bake house and pushed it down th' steps. He's still down there. Neither me or Antoney knew what to do so.. we just left him."

"What-wait? Who?"

"Th' Beetle! Where were you at?"

"Up in my room." He answered truthfully. He couldn't think straight enough to come up with any thing better. The beadle is dead? "I was sleeping."

"All that time! You must have really been sick!" She looked at him sadly. "We didn't know you where up there and you told us not to go in so-If you had told me I would have brought you food or something!"

"It's fine. I never expected you to." He couldn't believe it. Joannah had killed the beadle!

"But I feel awful thinking you where up there sick by your self!"

She killed his last enemy. Unable to resist he pulled her close in the first hug he could remember giving in what suddenly felt like too long a time.

She looked at him guessingly. "It's ok." He whispered. "You did what you had to, you're not a bad person."

She nodded, seeming to accept this. "Thanks Mista T."

"Joannah?" A voice he recognized all too well met his ears. "Who you takin' t' Love?" She walked around the couch before either of them answered.

"Mista T!" She gasped. "You're back!"

"Nellie." Joannah cut in. "You shouldn't be out of bed. Here, why don't you sit down?" She caught the older woman's hand and eased her down on to the couch. "Why don't you

sit here and I'll bring you two some food."

The two adults sat side by side silent. Sweeney kept waiting for her to open her mouth and start some pointless chatter but instead she just sat there trying not to look at him.

The silence felt strange to him but he wasn't all that surprised. He had known she would be angry when he killed the boy.

"Where were you, you coward?" She finally hissed, barley a whisper, glaring at Sweeney.

"I killed the judge." He stated truthfully. That was sure to warrant some response.

"Humm." She turned away again; chin resting in her open palm. "Good for you." She didn't say it in a mocking tone as she could have, more of a sad resigned tone.

"There we go." Joannah smiled from one to another as she sat down a tray of cucumber sandwiches.

He huffed, picking up one of the small sandwiches his daughter had made and quickly wolfing it down. Food had been the original reason he'd entered the pie shop after all. Rather than helping to sooth his ragging appetite it seemed to encourage it instead and when Joannah turned to say something to him he quite literally had 3 of them stuffed in him mouth.

She giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand. "I shouldn't laugh." She apologized still smiling at the skunk haired man. "Your probably famished."

Mrs. Lovett looked questioningly at the young blond but didn't ask the question hovering on in her mind. Why should she care what the girl meant? She turned resolutely to glare down at her tea sandwich.

The whole time he was missing, as soon as she had woken up she had sworn to her self it was over. There was no way she was going to forgive him. He killed her Toby. She would have to be some kind of monster to still love him after that yet here she was and it was taking all she had not to fall back into her old patterns.

She wasn't going to smile at him, to worry about him, to even allow her self to care. Why is it so hard to do? It's not like he cares for her at all so it shouldn't be hard to feel the same, should it?

"You feeling ok?" Joannah frowned at the older woman.

"Yes dear, sorry, I was just thinking." She shot Sweeney the best death glare she could muster.

An uncomfortable silence hung over the three until it was finally broken by the shrill whistle of a kettle.

Joanna jumped up, glad for an excuse to leave the room, walking a few steps away before tuning back to Sweeney, leaning down and whispering in a voice she assumed only he could here. "Don't tell her, please!" She looked pleadingly at him. "I don't want her to know what an awful person I am!."

"Don't tell me wot Mista T?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her as soon as the girl was out of earshot.

Sweeney raised his eyebrows and looked at the woman. One minute she's ignoring him, the next she's trying to get him to break his daughters trust. It was his turn to look away and remain silent.

"Your daughters positively the worst whisperer evah." She mused. "Did she really not think I'd hear her?"

"Either that or you're the nosiest busy body 'evah'!" He didn't mean to react that way but he did. He sighed, frustrated with him self. He could at least try to be civil, couldn't he?

She turned away from him, furious both herself for letting tears spring to her eyes and with him for acting the way he did. She didn't turn to look at him as she mumbled "Fine. Like I care wot you 'ave t' say any ways ya heartless demon!"

They sat there again in silence until Joannah returned, this time with scones and a tea tray.

"Ummm….? Mister Todd? Nellie? Every thing ok? You both seem kind of ..upset?"

"Of course dear." Nellie smiled. This girl was about as smart as her boy friend. "Why don't you go tuck Antony in. He fell to sleep sitting in that old rocker in my room and it's ever so drafty."

"Okay." She left the room and Sweeney began munching on one of the scones when Nellie glared at him.

"Nice to see you like someone's cooking!"

"Mmph." He tried for a response but ended up mumbling incoherently. It took almost a full minute for him to finish his mouth full and respond with. "I was just shocked to taste food that wasn't filled with cock roaches! It's a step up from what I'm used to dining on."

"How dare you!" She barked all her anger and frustration bubbling up. "Wot makes you think you 'ave any right t'talk t' me like that?"

"Well you seem to think its perfectly alright to insult me missus Lovett so I only thought I'd return the favor."

"You murdered my little boy!" It was all she could do to keep her voice down. "You know I'll nevah 'ave a son and you took the closest thing I evah got away from me!" Tears started falling but she ignored them as she glared at him.

"Feh. He was some street urchin." Todd deflected, somehow put off by the sight of the woman's tears. He knew as soon as he said it this was the wrong thing to say but couldn't seem to make him self shut up. "Besides, he knew, he would have ruine-"

"Ruined wot?" She shrieked. "Your perfect lil revenge plan?"

He made a shushing motion, eyeing the doorway Joannah had left through.

"Don't shush me! Wot did the judge do that got you so mad? Ruined your famileh! Well guess wot-you ruined the closest thing I 'ad t'one!" She turned, hurrying from the room as quickly as she could. Sweeney sighed, steadying him self against the arm of the couch as he stood.

He hadn't meant to yell, to insult her food and make her cry. Shaking his head he scooped up a bottle of gin and the rest of the sandwiches, heading back up through the rain in to his blood splattered room.


	8. Chapter 8: forgive

Chapter Eight:

Sweeney plopped down onto his bed, eating his food and downing his liquor in the dark. His body was aching all over but at least he didn't feel like he was starving. He had to clean the room up before any one saw it. He had been lucky enough not to have anyone walk in while he was unconchise, now they knew he was up here some one was sure to be here soon.

After lighting the candles the first thing he did was pour the dirty water he'd bathed in earlier onto the big rust spot on the floor, sopping it back up with a rag. Just that few minutes of movement had his head spinning and he leaned against the wall until he had the strength to get up.

"All I have to do' he told him self, 'is clean this than I can sleep again' He kept telling him self this as he lugged the water down the steps, dumping it in the gutter and pumping fresh water in to the bucket.

The cut on his stomach was burning but he ignored it. One thing. He had one thing to do, that was it. He could manage it. By the time he was upstairs again, water poured again across the floor he had changed his mind. He'd have to finish this tomorrow.

His hand flew to his wounded stomach, instantly becoming sticky and wet. It was bleeding again. He would finish the floor tomorrow. He barley remembered to shut the window and lock the door.

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Nellie bit her lip, replaying the events of the night down in the bake house in her head for the umpteenth time. She had been the one to lock him down there. She had went to get Sweeney. Was there really anyway they could have trusted the boy? Maybe not. Would it have been worth it to try? This question always stumped her.

If Toby had run to the cops they would have both been hanged for sure. But there was always the chance the bright-eyed boy could have joined them, joined in the secret. She sighed, head falling to the pillow. Maybe she shouldn't be mad at Mista T. He had done what he thought was right.

But, than again, she thought as the image of her adoptive son dieing in front of her floated again to her mind. Maybe she should.

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Sweeney gasped as he returned to conciseness. Oh. Oh. His head was pounding along with the cut going down his side in tune with his quick beating heart. He lifted his shirt, looking for the first time at the wound. It need stitches, there was no way around that. Plus, he winced at the thought; he would have to clean it, he hoped it wasn't infected. The skin around it was already red and tender.

Pulling on his last clean shirt with as little movement as possible he stumbled across the rust stained floor and down the rickety wood steeps. Johanna and Antoney where at the table eating breakfast. He didn't respond to their greetings, simply snatched up the nearest bottle of liquor and headed for the bakers room.

Mrs. Lovett looked up instantly from her book. Why was he here? "Wot?" She asked sharply. She still hadn't decided whether to be angry or not and until she did she would simply keep on this way.

Sweeney looked at her and she focused on his red-rimed eyes. His skin looked paler than normal if even possible and he stood there, almost teetering where he` stood as he mumbled a phrase shed long desired to hear. "I need you-"

"Wot?" She barley gasped out. Did he mean it?

"I need you to help me." He restated his sentence, wavering where he stood. "You got a sewing kit?"

"Aye. Why?" Todd didn't say anything simply lifted his shirt to show her his wound.

Instantly she decided she had to help him.

"Fine." She sighed, disgusted with her self for still caring, for still felling excitement at the fact she was going to get to touch that chalk white skin. "Come 'ere luv, 'ave a seat on th' edge and I'll see wot I can do."

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"All done." She chirped, sniping off the edge of her thread. "I really think you shoulda gone to a doctah."

"Too suspicious." He growled through still gritted teeth. "We jus' had him over for you." That comment brought a thought to his head. "How are you?"

The maroon haired baker gaped at him, he actually cared enough to ask? "Im fine luv." She smiled at him. He nodded, satisfied with that response, turning to leave with out another word.

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Whew! That was done. Sweeney flopped backwards laying spread-eagle on his bed, furious with him self. It had taken him all afternoon to accomplish one simple task but at least the floor was clean and not a moment to soon for he was only there a minute before Anthony burst in. "Mister todd?"

"Knock." He yelled.

"What?" A look of confusion crossed his young face.

"Knock on the bloody door." He yelled, not bothering to sit up. "Didn't your mother teach you any edict at all?"

"oh… umm, well anyways, I was coming up to tell you I'm going out to see when the soonest ship t' Plymouth is. Johanna and Missus Lovett will both still be here though."

"All right then." He growled gruffly. He was going to lose his daughter. He focused on that one thought as he listened to the steps of the boy go down the stairs and walking away.

Suddenly feeling all too alone in his shadowy room he hulled him self to his feet, made his way down stairs and plopped his self down on the couch, staring ahead at a blank spot on the wall as he thought.

What was he going to do now? The judge was gone. Joanna was leaving. His Lucy was long dead. There was no reason to keep killing people.

That thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

He had been killing people because of one man, one ordinary man-corrupt, yes, evil- yes but ordinary nonetheless. Would he ever be able to justify that, he wasn't even able to justify it in his own mind at the moment.

It was as if he had been possessed by a demon and it had flown away or as though all the murderous intent bleed out on to the floor the few days prier. What ever it was he sat there, trying to figure out what to do.

He had no purpose. No one needed him. No one wanted him around. He frowned, pulling out his friend- no, it wasn't his friend it was just a pale piece of cold, unfeeling metal just like him.

"Mista T?" the cockney accent of his business partner and her warm hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thought. "Wot you thinking bout luv?"

"Nothing." He grumbled, not looking up.

She sat beside him. "Johanna and that boy'll be leaving soon." She mumbled and he nodded. "You gonna tell 'er?"

"Why should I?" The question was dull and resigned.

"She's leaving anyways. Wot could you lose?"

"I don't care."

"Yes you do! Don't lie t' me Mista T, I can see right through that."

He didn't respond, just stared pointedly ahead.

"Maby I'll tell 'er."

"Do that and I will kill you." The threat held no bite behind it and she merely smiled at him, patting him on the hand as she stood. "I'm sure you would." She said with a smile. I'd like t' see you try."

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A/N:

Meh. Im working on this 'cause I don't wanna leave you hangin but just to let you guys know im not obsessivley into Sweeney at all any more . sorry ^n^' don't hate me, I still intended to finish the storys, really. I have so many resident evil storys I wanna do but I refuse to post another story till I finish at least one.


	9. Chapter 9: authors note

Well after a long break (over a year! the last ime I updated was 03-25-09!) im trying to finish this, please comment and feel free to incessantly message me to keep it on the move for this or any other story!


	10. Chapter 10: questioning

One month. Antony came back in less than an hour and informed Sweeney it would be thirty-two days until the next boat set sail. Sweeney nodded. Of course. He had thirty-two days until he lost his daughter. Oddly his thoughts drifted to Mrs. Lovett. Sure she was fine now but when the house was empty she was sure to think of the little boy she'd thought of as a son.

And than as that though flitted through his head, one thought brought on another one. There where three bodies moldering away in the bake house and he was the only one who could deal with it. Mrs. Lovett couldn't be asked to go down there with Toby's body and there was no way Johanna or Antoney was being sent down there.

He stood up carefully, grabbing a handkerchief as he headed out of the room. Down stairs everyone was in the living room, watching as he squirted the handkerchief with some flower scented stuff Mrs. Lovett had to freshen the house and tied it around his face.

"Headed down to the bake house." He explained at the three curious eyes.

"I-" Antony stood up, already turning green. "I'll help."

"No. You wont." He spun on his heals walking over to the door, slamming it shut and locking it behind him.

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Night had surly fallen by the time Sweeny made his way back up the steps. He was displeased but unfortunately could take no more exertion. His side was still aching and he had barley done anything. Hiding the bodies was a lengthy process one he didn't have the strength for. So far all he'd managed to do was decapitate the three bodies than sitting on the steps peel the flesh off them and toss it in the fire.

The skulls themselves where waiting to be ground into dust another time.

"I'm sorry." Joanna was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

"Forwhat?" He glared. He didn't like this. Even as he spoke to his daughter he felt his body weave.

"It's my fault you had to do all that work."

"Nadoneyet." He ignored the fact his words where slurring as his mind became even more fuzzy.

Joanna looked alarmed. He must have swayed because she put her hands out, holding him as if to steady him. "Your still ill!"

Sweeny didn't respond. He didn't want to deal with this. 'Bed.' That was the one thought that could process in his head as he broke away from her grasp, stumbling like a drunkard out if the shop.

He looked up at the steps, cursing under his breath. The climb looked as if it would take forever.

"Come on." Joanna reached around his waist to help him up the stairs, instead making him hiss in pain as she touched his wound and- reacting on instinct -he shoved her away with a growl.

There was no strength behind it but she took the hint, disappearing into the pie shop. Groaning he made jis way up the steps, clinging to the rail like a sailor to a lifeline.

There it was. He let out an audible sigh as he caught sight of it and, like he seemed to do so many times the past few days he promptly lay down and gave into unconsciousness.

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"See! I told you he was ill!" He heard a voice, soft and melodic. he knew that voice!

Who was it?

"Why am I not surprised?" A more cocknickey one mumbled.

Nellie! He realized, that was Nellie's voice so that meant-

"What do we do?"

"Run down stais, fetch me my sewin' kit, some rum and Mista T's clean shirts."

He wished he could open his eyes but the lids seemed filled with lead.

He reached out; glad to see his arm still would move. "Lucy!" It had to be Lucy, the two where inseparable. "Lucy."

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Mrs. Lovett clucked, shoeing the girl out of the room after she dropped off the necessities.

"Bloody fools probly got it infected." She mumbled, carefully tugging the filthy shirt over his head. It was no wondered. If she was to understand right he laid on the floor with an open wound for half a week and now he's messing around with the disease spewin' bodies? Her throat tightened at that.

Toby.

Toby was one of those bodies down there.

She sighed. Why was she so mad? She had been the one to lock him down there. She had been the one to leed Sweeney to him, She had been the one holding him ready and waiting until changing her mind at the last second.

Sighing she unwrapped his wound. Where her's had been a simple stab wound that fortunately hit nothing major his was a large gash, albeit shallower but crossing his abdomen starting beside his belly button and snaking up almost to his color bone.

It was bright red and puffy to the touch around the whole wound. Sighing she grabbed scissors from her sewing kit, emptied brandy in a bowl and dipped them in it, proceeding to sip her stitches.

More brandy was poured, this time in the wound, which was stitched closed again with liquor soaked thread and needle.

"All done." She sighed, standing stiffly.

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"Ma'am?" Joannah approached the baker, currently lounging on the couch with a book. There was wearing an apron, flour on her face and hair, pairing knife loosely in her hand.

"Yes love? You need 'elp in the kitchen?" She moved to get up but Joanna gently held her in place.

"No-no, its still slow today, just rest, ok?" She sat down with a sigh, playing with the tip of the knife. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Alright?"

"Why did he call me Lucy?"

"Who?" Mrs. Lovett feigned innocence as she was so often doing.

"Mr. Todd!"

"Wot about him?"

Joanna gave her a hard look. "Whats going on Mrs. Lovett?"

Nellie opened her mouth to speak, debating with her self wither to lie or tell the truth. Still thinking she leaned forward, seeming suddenly focused on lighting the candle around her.

"Mrs. Lovett!"

She looked up at the blond haired girl. "Ask 'im yourself love."

Joanna frowned. "I will, as soon as he's better I'll ask him and I **will** get an answer."

The maroon haired woman felt an involuntary shudder go through her. Maybe it was her imagination but the way the candlelight reflected off her eyes and the knife seemed down right sinister.

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Sorry for the long time between updates, um, roll call who still out there ^^' ?


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